


Food for Thought

by soprano_buddy15



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Cooking, Finan can't cook, Osferth can cook like nobodies business, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27612557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soprano_buddy15/pseuds/soprano_buddy15
Summary: Finan cannot cook. At all. Osferth decides to finally do something about it.
Relationships: Finan & Osferth (The Last Kingdom)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	Food for Thought

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Java_Blythe_Peralta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Java_Blythe_Peralta/gifts).



> Hello everyone!
> 
> One of my best friends recently moved back home during Canada’s lockdown 2.0, and as a present to her I finally wrote the Osferth fic she requested long ago. This is for you, M. 
> 
> (And I guess you too, Java).
> 
> (Love you).
> 
> This fic was inspired by mamandisla! Thank you for your amazing Osferth suggestions!!
> 
> Constructive comments are always welcome! Just don’t be rude, because nobody wants that.

“What,” Osferth said slowly, “is _that_.”

Finan frowned in his direction. He was holding a spoonful of something up near his mouth. “What do you mean, Baby Monk?”

Aghast, Osferth turned to Sihtric, who was leaning up against a nearby tree. “Are you seeing this?”

Sihtric shrugged and scooped some stuff from the bowl and into his mouth. “It’s not the most terrible thing I’ve ever eaten,” he said, and winced as he bit down on something that clearly was not meant to be in the food. “It’s just fine,” he said hoarsely, coughing a bit.

Osferth picked up the ladle in the pot over the fire and let the contents pour back down. “What did you all put in this?” He asked Finan despairingly.

Finan took a bite and chewed it. Something crunched in his mouth and Osferth winced. “Let’s see - water from the creek, fish from the creek, I found some funny plants that a rabbit was enjoying before I got there so I tossed those in there, and Uhtred took down a deer and I threw that in there too.”

Sihtric choked suddenly, and after coughing vigorously he spat out what looked horribly like a patch of hide. 

Stomach rolling, Osferth let the ladle fall back into the pot. “Lord have mercy,” he whispered. 

There was no way that he could eat this. Heavens’ only knew how Sihtric was stomaching it. Osferth had had Ealhswith’s cooking, and try as he might, Osferth could not best it. 

But, he could damn well do better than Finan. 

“This cannot be good for you,” Osferth said, lifting the pot off of the roasting sticks, Finan protesting strongly. He dumped it out in the bush at the edge of the camp, ignoring Finan’s cries of distress. “You are going to poison yourself.”

He walked down to the creek and began rinsing the pot out. “Osferth, what are you doing?” Finan cried, hands in his hair as Osferth filled it with fresh water. 

“Teaching you to cook properly,” he stated, and thrust the pot into Finan’s hands. “Go and hand this over the fire and make sure it boils.”

With a growl, Finan took the pot and turned up the hill, grumbling the entire way. Well. At least the water would be clean. He looked down, seeing what was around the creek bed, and found some watercress growing at the edge. 

Grinning at his find, he bent to pick bundles of the leafy green plant and carry it back up. 

“Sihtric, if you could properly skin the deer,” he asked, and the man nodded before pulling the deer close to him and took out his knife. Fortunately Finan had only used a portion of the animal and there was still some good meat left. 

“I can cook, Osferth,” Finan said, hovering over Osferth’s shoulder. The water was boiling already. 

“No, you can’t,” Osferth replied. “You can mix four completely different things together and call it food. That is not the same as cooking.”

Sihtric called Osferth and tossed him a couple of large bones that had been cleaned. He stuck them in the pot. “We need to make the broth first,” he said, instructing Finan. 

“I know about the bloody broth-”

“Then why can’t you make one?” 

Sihtric snorted, and Finan to turn and glare at him. “Here, Osferth.” He had cubed the venison into small chunks. Osferth 

“Thank you, Sihtric. Would you mind finding some basil?” 

Sihtric shrugged again, but stalked off into the forest to find it. 

“I know how to cook, Baby Monk,“ Finan said again, watching Osferth stir the bones around. 

“Then why don’t you?” 

Finan was quiet. “I don’t know how to cook like _this_ ,” he finally explained. 

Oh. It made sense now. Finan had grown up with riches and and delicacies. Not with field rations and broth made in the middle of nowhere. 

“Who taught you?” He asked, stirring the pot. The venison was starting to lose its pink colour. 

“My nurse,” Finan admitted. “She was too good to me - I wanted to eat as much sweet porridge as I possibly could, and so she showed me how to make it. I never ate only broth, with stale bread and rotten apples.” He grimaced. “I just wanted to try.”

Osferth continued to stir. “I’m sorry,” he said, shame running through him. 

“Aye, it’s not your fault, Baby Monk,” Finan said. “I should have asked for help.”

“And I should not have assumed so much about you.” He let go of the ladle and turned to Finan completely. “That still is my fault.”

Sihtric returned then, bringing a handful of basil. “I also found these,” he said, and opened his fist to reveal some berries. “Something else to eat?” 

“Thank you, Sihtric,” Osferth took the basil from him and also popped a berry in his mouth. The juice burst across his tongue, sweet and yet tart. 

He checked the venison, finding it cooked through. He tossed the watercress he had picked earlier into the pot and pulled a few of the basil leaves off of the stem and added it as well. 

Finan lifted the ladle up and took a sip. “Oh, Osferth-” he took another - “This is incredible.”

Sihtric took it from him and did the same. He blinked in surprise. 

“As good as Ealhswith’s?”

Sihtric placed the ladle back in the pot abruptly and shook his finger at him. “Never,” he said, but there was a glint of teasing in eyes. 

Finan prepared the bowls and held them as Osferth ladled in the broth. “I guess we know now,” Sihtric said, cradling the bowl tightly in his hands. “Osferth cooks while we are on the road.”

“So what do I do now?” Asked Finan. 

Osferth and Sihtric paused, glancing at each other. Sihtric shrugged and took another bite. “I guess there’s something for you to do,” Osferth said, and Sihtric grinned. 

“What’s that?”

Osferth drained his soup and handed the empty bowl to Finan. “The dishes.”


End file.
